


For Grief, For Comfort

by Traynor



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Breastfeeding, Dragon Age Kink Meme, Gen, Grief, Nursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:42:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traynor/pseuds/Traynor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OP Anon was looking for a story in which Marian breastfed Carver, not as a sexual act, but as a comfort and understanding between them.  After Carver is gone (by death in this case) Sebastian offers to relieve Marian of the discomfort she's experiencing without Carver to feed from her.</p><p>For <a href="http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/8832.html?thread=34210176#t34210176">this thread</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Grief, For Comfort

She  _ ached _ .   
  
Marian had done what she could to ignore the pain, but  _Carver was gone_.  And while she might have been out of tears, her body had yet to realize the change. She managed to make it out of the Deep Roads, though everyday was painful body and soul. It was the first time since the war that she and Carver had been separated for more than a few days. Enduring the loss was harder that she could’ve imagined and the only thing she could hope for was that by the time she made it home, her body would understand what had happened.  
  
It didn’t.   
  
It was slower, maybe, and she kept her breasts bound for fear of milk seeping through her tunic; but it still came. The pain, compared to the loss of her brother from her life, was nothing.   
  
A few days home and she found herself daily at the Chantry. She could light a candle and kneel in front of Andraste and pray that Carver had been carried to the Maker’s side. They’d been close as children, while Father spent time with Bethany - training her in things Marian had already learned - she spent time at Carver’s side, learning to wielding a staff as well as he did a sword.   
  
It was something more -- exploration, adoration and quiet nights in the dark that led to it, but it was companionship and the need that kept them coming back to each other. Now, she dreams of his fingertips across her breasts in the dark. The flick of a tongue over hardened nipples, of his mouth pressed warm and wet against her skin; she missed him and his quiet moans as he had fed from her.  
  
The memories come unbidden as she kneels against cold stone and she expels a whimper as her breasts throb at the thoughts.  
  
A hand was on her shoulder. “Hawke?”  
  
Sebastian’s voice, calm and low and a heavy accent that has more than once made her a little weak in the knees. Of course, he would be there, ever kind-hearted and disposed and distracting Sebastian.   
  
She turned to him meeting his piercing blue eyes with her own, filled as they were with unshed tears. She whispered a greeting. “Sebastian.”  
  
He crouched so he could be on level with her, one sparkling white-armoured knee to the stone floor. His hand stayed on her shoulder and his fingers squeezed; a small, kind comfort. Her chest ached and she leaned forward, pressing her palms to her knees.  
  
“Hawke, are you- is there- can I offer a prayer for you?” Sebastian’s words were flustered and uncertain and Marian assumed he was looking for words to help her, not remind her of her loss. She nodded, for fear of saying something less comely.  
  
They bowed their heads, hers before his, and Sebastian offered a prayer. It was not enough of a comfort to keep her from forgetting what had already been raised behind her eyes. And Sebastian’s voice, while distracting (and indeed, she forgot that it was a prayer he was speaking) did not quiet the throbbing beneath her skin. She bit the inside of her lip to keep the groan of pain inside her throat, even as her breath caught on it and she had to raise a hand to her mouth to let it out as something more like a yawn than the silent surprise of pain.  
  
Sebastian stopped. “Hawke, please. I can see you’re in pain. Tell me what I can do.”  
  
Marian shook her head and tried to relax her face, easing what she could to hide her expression. Her lips pressed together and she forced them into a smile, as sincere as she could make it. From the way Sebastian looked at her, she could tell it wasn ’t nearly convincing enough.  
  
He stood and tugged on her shoulder. “Come on, Hawke.”  
  
She let herself be guided to her feet, Sebastian’s arm right behind her elbow. He led her to a side room and a short comfortable chair that she could ease into. With some hesitation she sat and leaned back with a sigh. It had been a short walk, but the motion and the time between with silence between them and several deep breaths had lessened the uncomfortable sensation in her breasts.   
  
“You’ve suffered a great loss, Hawke and I know that it must hurt,” he said as he crouched down in front of her. “Still I feel there’s something else. Is everything else alright? Are you injured?”  
  
“No, Sebastian. I’m not hurt.” It was a half-truth. She _hurt_.  But she was not hurt as Sebastian was asking. Marian could not tell him. Â Not Sebastian. Her head shook even as she considered it. The image of Sebastian at her breast, a moan escaping his lips, his fingers wrapped around her- it was too much. She looked away, finding solace in the sunburst tapestry on the opposite wall.  
  
“You’re not.” He nodded and sighed with what sounds to her like relief in his voice. “So- “ he moved to put himself between her and the tapestry and Marian refocused to look at him- “why do you look like that?”  
  
She squirmed in her seat and held a hand to her chest. Her breaths were shallow to keep from moving too much, but her breasts were swollen and the pain was back. She knew exactly what he meant, but still asked, “Like what?”  
  
“Oh Hawke.” He sounded disappointed, and that hurt too. “Like that-” he waved a hand at her, stood and took a step away from her. “You look like you’re about to keel over at any moment . You’re holding your chest- and you were out there too. I heard you when you were praying. Whatever it is... you’re hurting.”  
  
Of course she was hurting. Her brother was dead and she could not fathom how to forget him when her body and her mind wouldn’t let her. Each hour that her clothes were dry and her breasts did not hurt, it seemed like her prayers had been answered. That it was the day she would forget... or at least be able to mourn, in peace. Those hours were few and far between and it was not even a week. She knew mothers in Lothering that had gone months, long after their babies had stopped feeding. Months...  
  
She didn’t know if she could hide this pain for months. Or, not at least if someone had already noticed, despite her efforts.   
  
“Sebastian...” Marian was on her feet before she meant to be, taking a step after him. “Look, I don’t know what to say. Â You-” _You’re not Carver.  
  
And you are a chaste man.  
  
_“I what, Marian? I’m here, and I would like to help you, if there’s something I can do, please tell me.”  
  
She shook her head. “Nothing I can ask of you.”   
  
It was his turn to look hurt, he frowned and she watched as he tried to read her face. She stared back as expressionless as she was able. The ache, if her attention was focused elsewhere, was like a dull throb, a reminder but not wrenching. She tried not to think of how easy it would be to tell him, to disgust him so that he could turn her away and she could go home. Part of her, parts of her, wanted to tell him so that he could say yes.   
  
“You can tell me anything, I should hope you would know that by now.”  
  
She forced a smile. “There are somethings I do not think I _should_ tell a chaste man.” If she didn’t have the heart to disgust him, she could at least appeal to his more reformed sensibilities.  
  
He looked her over again, his frown disappearing. His hand touched her arm again and for the life of her, she didn’t think she could stand another kind-hearted, brotherly comfort from him. It was not what she needed. If anything, the chantry was the last place she should be. The Rose would have been a better choice. At least something could be satisfied there with a few coins.  
  
But it was Sebastian in front of her and he looked down at her sweetly.   
  
“Hawke, I’ve told you of my past. If there’s something you need to say, you can. If there’s somewhere I can direct you, I will. And if there’s something that I, myself, can do for you, please tell me.” H e flashed a brief, sad smile at her and looked down, she may have mistook it- but it looked as though he blushed.   
  
Marian stepped to his side and shut the door to the room they were in. When she turned back to him it was with a hand to her chest again, forearm wrapped around her and her hand tucked other her other arm. The pressure hurt, but contained, and it was better than lying at home waiting for the whole thing to pass.  
  
He looked at her expectantly, though she did not miss the steps he took farther away from the door- and her.  
  
What she wanted to ask him was where the limits of his chastity lay. Could she ask him, would he respond, if it was only this- only relief and release of the milk in her breasts? Would that break a vow- it had never been more than that with Carver and though she would welcome something more with Sebastian, she could never ask him to break his vows.  
  
Instead, she said, “I am in pain. At the loss of my brother, but not just for the way you think- he.. we-” she held up her other hand and shook her head- “it wasn’t like that. But, we were very close and there are parts of me, that mourn him.” She inclined her head.    
  
For a moment, Sebastian was silent. Not a muscle that she could see so much as twitched and she anxiously closed her eyes waiting for his disapproval. That would be easy, another thing she could add to her list of frustrations to take home with her.  
  
She tensed as a hand rested on hers. When he said nothing, Marian opened her eyes and found him watching her, searching her face as he had before, and when she grimaced he frowned. But it was not disapproval or disappointment she found in his eyes. Only concern.  
  
Marian took a breath and licked her lips. “He would... I would... Oh-” she shook her head. “Th is is hard to tell you!”  
  
He tugged on her arm, pulling it away from her chest. “Tell me.”  
  
Another breath. “He fed from me,” she said, letting the words rush out before she could keep them in. “That was it. But, without him...”  
  
Sebastian lifted his chin as the realization dawned on his face. “And that is why you are in pain.” He looked to her arm in his and then to her chest. “You have had no release in days- and... I have heard it can be quite painful for women to quit nursing when they continue to fill with milk.” He said it as though it were the plainest thing in the world and for the surprise he must have seen in her expression, he added, “Oh come now Hawke. I once frequented far busier places than The Blooming Rose. As I remembered, there were customers that would pay quite the price for-”  
  
“Just stop right there, Sebastian. I am not going to-”  
  
“No, of course not. And I wasn’t suggesting that you should. I only meant to tell you that I understand.” He shrugged. “I often wondered...”  
  
She raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t honestly be suggesting what she thought he was. Her throat closed up and Marian knew she couldn’t offer herself to him in that way. Or any way.   
  
Sebastian chuckled. “I know why you must not have wanted to tell me. And I know that I could never replace your brother, nor could I try. However-”  
  
She swallowed and rushed to say, “But your vow?” Her head shook. “I couldn’t, I don’t... I’m not going to ask you to-”  
  
“I do not intend to break that vow, Hawke. Still, I would remove you of your burden, if you’d have me.”  
  
With an exhale she nodded. “Maker, yes.” At just the thought of him pressed to her breast, she thought she could feel them swell under her robe.   
  
“Then I am ever at your service, when you are ready.”  
  
It was relief that had her sinking down onto a bench against the wall, though she did wonder what it was that drove Sebastian to follow her. He sat almost primly at her side, back straight and waited for her to remove the tie at her waist, to remove her arms from the sleeves of her robe and let them fall to the bench. When her breasts were bare, she leaned against the wall and sighed.   
  
“Sebastian,” she said with a look down at herself. Her breasts were swollen, and one of her nipples was already wet, a drop forming in the middle. There were tiny stretch marks along the side, lines that had never gone completely away after her breasts had swelled with her first milk. When she looked up, Sebastian was also looking and he had a hand raised above her as though he wasn’t sure what he would do with it. “It’s alright.” She gave him a smile.  
  
He sank against her without hesitation, his hand on her right breast, his tongue ghosting over her left. When his mouth latched onto her, she let out a small moan at the relief, despite her best efforts not to. He pulled his head away and looked at her as if to say, _please_. It was pleasure, but at the release, and the sensation she had missed; little of the sound was for the man at her breast, though she had to admit some amusement to herself at his stern look. She covered her mouth with a hand and turned away so that he could refocus his attention.   
  
His mouth was on her breast, suckling as though his time in the Chantry and done nothing to dull his memory of women. Her other arm wrapped over his shoulder, a comforting embrace that Carver had often sought in her and she found him sinking against it as he pressed his mouth around her and the pressure release her milk into him. Maybe it was the days she had spent with no release, but the sensations were not as dulled as they had been before. She could feel Sebastian’s tongue over her nipple, a gentle scrape of teeth against her sensitive skin.   
  
She could not hope to ask Sebastian of this a second time. With time, she might be able to forget the feel of the warmth of Carver around her, his head between her breasts as he suckled from her. Her milk would dry and she would once more be, just _Marian_. Until then, she would remember this. What a friend- what a companion, would do for her, to ease her pain and her grief. To offer her comfort. Though Sebastian did not look discomfited when she watched him.   
  
As she watched, Sebastian closed his mouth until all that was left between his lips was the barest amount of her breast need to pull milk from her into his mouth. His feeding was quiet and gentle and similar to the way that Carver’s had been, when they had found comfort in the solitude of one another.   
  
Marian smiled and closed her eyes.


End file.
